


Just Keep Watch

by sabinelagrande



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Consent Issues, Content Notes Inside, F/M, Public Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-17
Updated: 2012-01-17
Packaged: 2017-10-29 16:53:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/322052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabinelagrande/pseuds/sabinelagrande
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik never asked for this. He's not even sure who did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Keep Watch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [helens78](https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/gifts).



> This story has potential triggers that are also big spoilers. For more information, see the end notes.

Erik hears it before he sees it; a woman is moaning softly, and Erik can't tell where the hell it's coming from. He's in a corridor in a little-used part of the house, and he's right about to pass the opening where another meets it. He stops at the corner, wondering if the noise is coming from down there, wondering what he might be walking into.

He looks carefully around the corner, and he finds exactly what he thought he was walking into. Someone has got someone up against the wall; it takes him a moment to sort out the tangle of bodies, and he's absolutely startled to realize that it's _Charles_ and _Raven_. They're mostly clothed; Charles has his pants down around his thighs, and with the way his shirt tails hang out from underneath the hem of his sweater, Erik can barely see anything. Raven's skirt is just pushed up, and somehow all of it is more obscene than if they were naked.

Raven's legs are around his waist, and Charles is moving inside of her slowly, his hips working. Erik probably shouldn't be watching this, should probably turn right around and go anywhere else, but as far as he's concerned, anyone fucking in a hallway has given up their right to privacy.

"Charles," she says, and her voice is almost a whine, "Charles, we can't."

He takes his face away from her neck just long enough to speak. "Of course we can, darling. We can do whatever we want."

"Charles, I don't _want_ to," she protests, "don't make me-"

"Shh," he says, stroking her hair with one hand. "Of course you want to."

She thrashes her head. "No, I don't, stop, please _stop_ -"

Her body is saying exactly the opposite of what her mouth is. She's pulling him in, clutching at him, a hand laced in his hair to keep him close, just the right place to kiss him, press his face to her neck.

"You can ask all you want," he tells her, "but you know I'm not going to stop. So go on, love," he says, and Erik can picture his grin perfectly, "beg me for it."

He's moving faster now, driving into her, kissing and sucking at her skin, and she's certainly begging, bits of _Charles, don't_ and _let me go, please let me go_ and _don't do this, don't do this to me_. It's just that all of it is broken up by moaning; her head is thrown back, and she certainly doesn't look like she objects, and Erik's completely clueless as to what to do, when nothing adds up.

But then she starts crying, sobs that wrack her entire body, and at this point Erik doesn't care whether she's approved of this or not; he's going to interrupt for his _own_ sake, because he won't be able to forgive himself if this is what it looks like and he lets it go on.

Except that, right then, he suddenly remembers he left something critically important in his room. He's got to go and get it immediately, or- or something bad will happen, he's not entirely sure what.

Of course, by the time he gets back to his room, he's forgotten what it was he needed, but he doesn't forget what he's seen.

The next day, he's watching very, very carefully. He's generously giving Charles the benefit of the doubt, but the second he sees something, a worried glance, a scared look on Raven's face, he's stepping in immediately, and Charles is going to answer to him.

But that never happens. They behave just the same way they always have; Raven runs rough-shod over him, and Charles looks at her in fond exasperation. As far as Erik can see, if anyone has the upper hand, it's Raven, not Charles.

Erik still can't reconcile it, not any of it; he's starting to rewrite his own memories, convince himself he didn't see what he saw, that there was no fear in her voice, that he didn't see the look on her face.

And then it happens again.

Erik honestly doesn't remember why he's in the garage; he's going somewhere else, and he needs to pass through to get there. And of all places, he thought the _garage_ would be safe, but no, there it is again, louder and longer, definitely Raven. Erik wants to leave, he really does, but something makes him stay; he's behind the pickup truck, and he's not entirely convinced he can't be seen, but still he stays, and he looks.

Charles has inherited, somewhat predictably, an Aston Martin, one in impeccable condition. It sits in the corner of the garage, the better to keep people from looking at it or breathing on it or, god forbid, touching it, but Raven is definitely touching it now. Charles has her over the hood, and he's fucking her fast and hard; he's got her skirt flipped up over her back, and his fingers are curled around her hips, pressing in tight.

"You're hurting me," she gasps. "Charles, it hurts, please don't-"

"Quiet," he says soothingly, stroking her back. "I'd never hurt my Raven."

"Why are you making me do this?" she asks, and Erik can hear tears in her voice.

"Because you want it," he tells her. "I know how much you want it."

"But I _don't_ , Charles," she says, even as she's moving back against him for more. "I want you to stop."

"Don't say that, darling," he says, bending down over her, kissing her shoulder blade. "You don't have to say that. We know it's not true, don't we?"

She sounds for all the world like she's about to come; she's crying out, moaning over and over again. "Charles," she whimpers, "stop, don't make me _do_ this-"

"Come on and do it for me, darling," Charles says, his teeth clenched. "I know how much you want to."

She gasps loudly, thrusting back against him hard, and she shudders all over. That must be enough for Charles, because he groans, holding her tight against him, his head tilted back.

He pauses to deal with the condom, wrapping it up in a handkerchief and shoving into his pocket, and then he takes her in his arms. "I don't want to do this," she says, crying.

"Shh, love," he says, stroking her hair. "Everything is fine."

She shakes her head. "No, Charles, it's not."

"Do you love me?" he asks, wiping the tears from her cheek.

"Yes," she says, but it's small, defeated.

He kisses her, hugging her closer. "Then you shouldn't feel bad about it. Just do what I want, and that'll be that. I know you want to."

Erik doesn't give a damn about interrupting now; he's going to march right over there and demand an answer, because Charles can't keep doing this and expect Erik not to react, especially when Charles _must_ know that he's seen.

And then his feet start to move, going in the opposite direction. He fights against it, knowing it's Charles, knowing that it's a ploy, but he can fight all he wants and Charles will still win this one.

When he finally regains control, he goes straight back to the garage, where, of course, there's no sign of them at all. No one answers at Raven's room, or at Charles's, or at Charles's study; Erik gives up and goes to bed, but this _will_ be resolved in the morning, if he has anything to say about it.

It's Raven he finds first; she's on the weight bench, and Erik is momentarily disappointed by the fact that she's still working out as a blonde, not in her natural skin. He lifts the bar out of her hands with his power, and she sighs, annoyed.

"I know what you're going to say," she says, and Erik's heart stops for a moment, "but I swear to god, Erik, if you try to drop that on my face again, I will get up from this bench-"

Erik puts it back on the rack. "We have to talk."

She sits up, swinging her legs around and facing him. "Is something wrong?"

"That's what I want to know," he tells her.

She raises an eyebrow at him. "What's on your mind?"

"I have to know, Raven," he says seriously. "I've seen you with Charles. I have to know that you want what he's doing to you."

Raven looks at him in perfect confusion. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't do this," he insists. "You don't have to. If you can't stop him, I will."

"Erik," she says carefully, "I honestly don't know what you mean."

He crosses his arms over his chest. "So you're going to tell me you weren't in the garage last night?"

"Erik, why would I be in the garage?" she asks, perplexed. "I don't even know how to drive, and staring at a bunch of cars is only interesting for about ten minutes."

A horrible realization dawns on him. "Look, I'm going to go talk to Charles," he tells her. "Stay away from him. Promise me that."

"Erik-"

He cuts her off. " _Promise_ me, Raven."

"Okay," she says, giving him a worried look. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"No," he says tightly; she's still frowning at him in confusion when he leaves.

Charles is in his study, and he must know Erik is coming; there's no surprising Charles, and the simple fact that he's let Erik find him says volumes.

Erik knows he can't touch Charles unless he wants him to, but by god, he's going to try anyway; he draws his arm back, but that's as far as he gets. "Charles, you'd better let me go right now, or you'd better hope you can hold me back forever."

"I just want to talk, Erik," he says. "Please, just give me a few minutes, and then I'll fight you if you want."

Charles lets him lower his arm, but Erik still can't attack him. "I suppose I don't have a choice but to accept, do I?"

Charles ignores that jab. "I know what you've seen, and you have to understand, it's not what it looks like," he says. "It's just a game-"

"Don't try that with me," Erik warns. "If it's a game, then why doesn't she know she's playing?"

Charles sighs. "I think you'd better have a seat," he says. "Maybe a drink as well," he mutters.

Erik sits down opposite him, and he's still planning what he's going to do, how he's going to handle it when Charles lets him go, where he's going to strike first.

"I have a problem, Erik," Charles says, which is the biggest understatement that Erik has heard in a very long time.

"I've seen," he snaps. "That's a problem on its own. How long have you been doing this?"

Charles leans forward, putting his elbows on his knees and running his fingers through his hair. "The first time, I thought it was her idea," he says. "I didn't have nearly as much control then, and sometimes when I wanted things badly enough, they happened. She climbed into my bed one night and-" He lets it hang there, not needing to go any farther.

"And then she woke up the morning to find she'd just lost her virginity to the person she thought of as her brother." He squeezes his eyes shut. "I don't care to recall what she said to me, but she threatened to go to my parents and the police- she was only fifteen." He looks back at Erik, his face stricken. "And I had to shut her up, and more than that I had to _fix_ her, because I had done a terrible thing."

Erik feels sick, light-headed. "That explains the _first_ time."

"I built her a new memory, something much better that explained everything, and I should have stopped myself there." He shakes his head. "I didn't," he says flatly, "not when I knew what I could have. I had to hide it at first, but then she graduated and moved in with me, and-" He opens his hands. "There was nothing stopping me. I've always tried to make it good for her, but I already know that doesn't make it _right_."

His head is spinning; everything he knows about Charles, everything he knows about Raven, it's all shifting around, reforming itself into something horrible. "If you can do that, why don't you stop her from fighting you for it?"

"Sometimes because I like it," Charles says, with a shrug, like there's nothing wrong with that statement at all, but his face gets weary. "Sometimes so that I don't forget."

"Why are you telling me this?" Erik demands. "Why do you think I want to hear about how you've been-" and there's a big scary word there, one they can both hear, one they don't want to say- "doing this to your sister? For _years_? You know I can't stop you, and I'm certainly never going to forgive you."

"Because I don't know what to _do_ , Erik," he says, defeated. "I've tried to fix it, and I've always failed."

"Don't you think Raven has a right to know?" he demands.

"Do you want to walk up to her and tell her what I've done?" he offers. "What I've been doing?" He looks hard at Erik. "If it had happened to you, would you want to know?"

"I don't know," Erik admits; there are a lot of things he'd like to have the luxury of forgetting. "But that's up to her, not you. And if she doesn't want to know, you could take it right back out again."

"I suppose," Charles says, sounding tired. "But then there would be the matter of fixing everything else."

It seems so simple to Erik, like there's something he's not getting. "What else is there to fix? All you need to do is _stop_."

"I'm not sure that I can," he says. "It's gone on too long." His eyes are dark. "I need it now."

Erik's stomach churns. "Charles, you're supposed to be better than this," he tells him. "You're supposed to be the good one."

Charles shuts his eyes. "I can be very noble, Erik, but that has never been synonymous with good." He sighs. "Now go to sleep."

Erik slumps over in his chair, and Charles presses his fingers to his temple. He touches up Erik's memory just enough, leaving everything else intact, preventing him from forgetting how to stand up or not recognizing anyone at the mansion. The chess board hasn't been reset from their last game, and Charles drags Erik over and arranges him in front of it, sitting down across from him.

He's not going to let Erik find out again. Erik is useful when he needs a confessor or a voyeur, but it always makes Charles feel worse than when he started. Sometimes Charles wonders how he would have turned out if he'd had Erik sooner; maybe Erik could have taught him right from wrong, good from bad, just from unjust.

Charles only knows powerful and not.

"Erik," he says, shaking his shoulder to wake him up, and Erik rouses, blinking. "I didn't think my stories were quite that boring," Charles says, smirking.

Erik touches his hand to his head. "I don't know what just happened."

"You fell asleep on me for a minute there," he says. "Look, why don't you go and have a nap? You were up so late last night, and you've already beaten me."

Erik looks at the board. "So I have," he replies. "Not that I'm surprised in the least."

"Go on," Charles says, waving him away. "Get some rest. I'll see you at lunch."

"I suppose I should," Erik says, pushing his chair back and getting up. "Lunch, then." He still looks a little dazed, but he leaves; Charles follows him down the hallway with his mind, making sure he's headed back to his bedroom.

It's barely five minutes before Raven knocks at his open door; she's long since stopped waiting for a response when she does it, just walks on in. "Charles, Erik is being weird again," she complains. "I don't know what's wrong with him."

"Come here, darling," he says, smiling fondly at her. "Sit on my lap and tell me all about it."

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains graphic noncon, memory erasure, mind control, and mentions of statutory rape.


End file.
